New Depths
by Louiseifer
Summary: Lucius Malfoy is bored. Remus Lupin is pretty. There's a lot of money resting on the outcome of this dangerous combination. Slash
1. The Challenge is Set

New Depths  
  
Summary: Lucius Malfoy is bored. Remus Lupin is pretty. There's a lot of money resting on the outcome of this dangerous combination.  
  
Notes: This is my first attempt at an R-rated fic. Even if it doesn't end up R-rated, I tried. This was first written on paper (A4 narrow lined, 4 holes, with margin) over six hours in St Bartholomew's Church, Brighton, while listening to the Sussex Symphony Orchestra rehearse. Incidentally, St Bartholomew's apparently has the same dimensions as Noah's Ark. This led to my Animal Stacking theory which I tried out on a couple of people this week; no one found it funny. St Bart's is very impressive and very shiny, as is the Sussex Symphony Orchestra, but this fic was begging to be written.  
  
Rating: Er, see above. Aiming for R but we'll see.  
  
Pairings: My new interest, Remus/Lucius.  
  
Disclaimer: I blame great acoustics and too much coffee. Play spot-the- Discworld-reference. Fun for all the family.  
  
"Checkmate," sighed Lucius Malfoy, flicking absently at his opponent's remaining Rook and sitting a black Bishop firmly in front of the white Queen. "Again," he added.  
  
The Slytherin boy opposite him looked hopelessly at the board. "But – "he began.  
  
"What?" mutter Lucius. "Your knight was in a very highly thought out tactical position? Of course it was, but it makes no difference because I'm infinitely better at this than you and everyone else in this poor excuse for a school."  
  
"But – "Said the boy again."  
  
"What?" sighed Lucius.  
  
"How did you DO that?"  
  
"It's this rare, amazing thing I have called talent."  
  
"You shouldn't have won!"  
  
"No, you're right. You were set to win the game more often than I, but perhaps you shouldn't have assumed this meant you had it in the bag. And now you've learned an important rule of life. Go away please."  
  
The boy snarled angrily, got to his feet and stomped off. Lucius leaned back in the enormous leather armchair which sat in the corner of the Slytherin common room and had been claimed long ago as his own. He had taken no pride or even a little satisfaction in his victory; it was no longer a challenge. He could beat any student and most of the staff at Chess. It was only old Dumbledore who beat him every time, and Lucius was convinced the headmaster used some kind of trickery.  
  
Lucius had also achieved top grades in all his classes, which to be fair wasn't a difficult task for him. He was head boy. He had been in the duelling club until he'd been politely asked to leave so that some of the other students had a chance to win occasionally. He was so popular that he spent most of his time alone, because there was no one who came close to being as interesting and clever as him, and therefore almost no one he felt was worthy of his time. Amazingly no one held this against him, and respected him for it: he was, after all, the very ideal of a Slytherin student. He could – and frequently did – have any girl in his year who he liked. Any boy too. And in the year below. In fact, life for Lucius Malfoy had become not only incredibly easy, but unbelievably boring too.  
  
Lucius stared coldly at the Chess board for a while. It was Saturday evening and he'd already run out of interesting things to do. He was beginning to consider going to bed and spending all weekend doing absolutely nothing and avoiding contact with the rest of humanity when a familiar figure appeared at his elbow. He knew without glancing sideways who it was.  
  
"Hello, Wolf. Fancy a game?"  
  
The small boy at his side chuckled. "When I lose all my senses, maybe. Done your Potions homework?"  
  
"Naturally; I did it in class while Professor Schmidt was rambling on about our exams."  
  
"You swine. Let me see it."  
  
Lucius picked up his schoolbag and threw it at his friend. The smaller boy caught it and fished out the roll of parchment. Wolfgang Faust was small, red-haired and rat-like. He was, for want of a more appropriate term, Lucius' best friend. This basically meant that he was the only person Lucius didn't find boring most of the time, and could bare to be in the presence of for more than an hour a day without grinding his teeth in frustration with humanity at large. Wolfgang was almost completely without loyalty, which was one of his more endearing features. He was quick, clever and cruel. However he genuinely liked Lucius, which was why he hadn't made an arch-enemy out of him. He was one of the few people who could have survived his teenage years and into adulthood with Lucius as an arch-enemy. Lucius knew this, and it was the main reason why he liked Wolfgang. Their friendship - which had nothing going for it except an odd mutual admiration yet was ultimately a successful one – was almost unique amongst Slytherins.  
  
Wolfgang had started selectively copying Lucius' essay, adding in ideas of his own so as not to get caught out. He glanced up to see the blond boy still staring listlessly at the chess board. He flicked some ink at Lucius, who fixed him with a blood-boiling glare.  
  
"Oi, why the long face? It's even worse than the one you were born with."  
  
"Shut up, Wolf," muttered Lucius, "unless you can actually help me out."  
  
"Why, what's up?"  
  
"I'm so bored, Wolf."  
  
"Oh. Is that all?" Wolfgang explored the contents of his right ear.  
  
Lucius sat up straight and scowled at him. "All!? Wolf, this is a catastrophe."  
  
The smaller boy hesitated. "It's . . . some kind of punctuation mark?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Like an apostrophe?"  
  
Lucius, surprisingly, looked impressed. "That's a very big word. Well done."  
  
"I know," said Wolfgang proudly.  
  
"Alas," said Lucius finally, slumping back in his chair, "a catastrophe isn't much like an apostrophe. Rather it's the end of existence as we know it."  
  
"Oh, is that all?"  
  
"What is that, phrase of the fortnight? No, it's not all. I need you to tell me - What am I going to do?"  
  
Wolfgang chewed the end of his quill and regarded the Head Boy thoughtfully. He had known Lucius for seven years, and never before had he seen him completely devoid of motivation or inspiration. This really was serious, and he had to find a way to deal with it. Now.  
  
"I have it."  
  
Lucius raised a lazy, enquiring eyebrow at him. "Oh you do? Just like that?"  
  
"Yes. My dear Mr Malfoy, I have for you a challenge."  
  
Lucius sighed. "My last challenge was five months ago because we ran out of victims."  
  
"Contestants, Lucius, contestants. And we ran out of obvious ones."  
  
"We ran out of desirable ones."  
  
"Almost. We never ventured as low as the fifth year."  
  
Lucius shook his head. "There's nothing whatsoever interesting about any person under sixteen."  
  
"You're correct, and five months ago most of the fifth years were indeed under sixteen. But now a lot of them are of that essential age. And one in particular has come to my attention."  
  
Lucius looked rather more interested. "Oh yes?"  
  
"You will of course be familiar with James Potter."  
  
"Fuck off, Wolf, James Potter is a jumped-up little turd. I wouldn't shag him if he paid me."  
  
"I wasn't asking you to; I was stating that you're familiar with him. Which your outburst rather confirms."  
  
"Yes, yes. I know of him. What is your point?"  
  
"Let me finish. You might also have heard of Sirius Black?"  
  
Lucius hesitated before saying rather cautiously, "now we're getting somewhere."  
  
"No we're not, because you keep interrupting. Keep your gob shut and listen." Wolf shifted in his seat, then pressed his fingertips together, peering at Lucius. "They're right little buggers, those two. James Potter and Sirius Black, kings of the fifth year. An interesting little duet, you may think, but in fact they are not a duet. They are a . . .quad. One of the four isn't worth our attention, but the other, the quiet one; he is more interesting than the rest combined."  
  
"Other one. What the hell are you on about?"  
  
"Remus Lupin. Do you know the name?"  
  
"Should I?"  
  
"No. That's why he is so interesting. He is not a prominent figure, despite being Black and Potter's closest friend. He is quiet, reclusive, shy, intelligent, modest –"  
  
"Exactly like me then."  
  
Wolfgang had to pretend to choke to cover his laughter, but Lucius wasn't fooled.  
  
"Am I amusing?"  
  
"Unremittingly, Lucius. But back to the challenge. Seduce Remus Lupin."  
  
Lucius snorted in the most genteel way. He stared down his nose at Wolfgang as if the little red-head were mad for even suggesting it. "Why should I? What makes him so special?"  
  
Wolfgang shuffled closer. "This information is classified."  
  
"Whatever."  
  
"Remus J. Lupin. . .Now you mustn't ask how I know this. . .Lucius, he's. . ." Wolfgang lowered his voice to a whisper. "A werewolf." Wolfgang sat back and tried to look exactly like nothing had happened.  
  
"Really? Oh. What's the J stand for?"  
  
Wolfgang's eyes widened. "Lucius, he's a werewolf! A monster! A complete freak! My dad works with his dad, and I know it for a fact. Doesn't that interest you at all?"  
  
"Not as much as the mysterious J. Nothing like an anonymous middle name to arouse curiosity and really piss everybody off."  
  
"I don't know what it stands for, and I couldn't care less," snapped Wolf. "I know you, Lucius Malfoy, and I can see all the shiny little cogs going round and round in that mind of yours. You're interested. The challenge stands, with fifty Galleons resting on it."  
  
"Make it a hundred and fifty, and you're on."  
  
"A hundred and fifty?!"  
  
"I'm being generous. If you'd shagged a werewolf before you'd have started at a hundred and ninety."  
  
Wolfgang narrowed his eyes. "You bloody haven't, you liar."  
  
A grin spread across Lucius' face. "No; but I've read things. They bite."  
  
"Icky. Shut up." Wolfgang wrinkled his nose. "I'm all for hunting down vi. . .ah, contestants to keep you occupied, but I've told you, I don't want details." He looked sideways at Lucius. "Since you're such a bloody liar and we both know who's going to win, let us say ninety galleons."  
  
Lucius spat on his hand and held it out. Wolfgang gave him a disgusted glare, shook, then wiped his hand franticly on the couch.  
  
"You were supposed to spit too, Wolf."  
  
"Piss off. Pervert."  
  
"Shut up and go count your pocket money, then put it in a fat envelope with my address on." Lucius grinned as he watched Wolfgang go back to his essay. The challenge was set, and it was time to start planning his first strike. 


	2. Bellatrix Black

Notes: Thanks to all reviewers of the first chapter, especially those who read it on my Livejournal and had to put up with my neglect of an LJ-cut. Sorry, chaps. This chapter was mostly written at home, on my shiny new PC, which isn't nearly as interesting as me writing about wizards doing naughty things with other wizards of the same sex in a church, but I soon realised I had no plot, merely "Lucius gets told to shag Remus, then Lucius shags Remus," and when I got home I added a middle, complete with plot. Am glad I included plot. Plot is our friend.  
  
Wolfgang made a point of always being the first to breakfast, even on a Sunday morning when any sane person was still tucked up in their bed. He was used to having the entire breakfast hall to himself for the best part of an hour, accompanied only by the headmaster and the Quidditch teacher. Professor Stunt was a tall, broad, bearded man with bright red cheeks, who wore faded red robes, enormous boots with steel toe-caps, and a hat with a removable point (for storing brandy in, Wolfgang had discovered shortly before one of the most painful detentions of his life). Stunt was known to get up at four O'clock every morning to go for a brisk run in the forest, before showing up at the great hall for breakfast at six a.m. where he started eating huge piles of ham and salmon and didn't stop until nine- thirty. On Sundays he was frequently seen shooting buzzards with an ancient cross-bow, or throwing javelins at trout in the lake. Wolfgang admired him because there were very few people as stupid as professor Stunt. His level of stupidity took real effort.  
  
This morning, however, things were different. Wolfgang sauntered into the great hall, said "Good morning, Professor!" sat himself down at the Slytherin table, helped himself to an enormous stack of pancakes, and found himself on the receiving end of a disgruntled glare.  
  
"You threw off my train of thought," said Lucius Malfoy. He allowed himself a fraction of a second's false agony and added, "And you didn't even say good morning to me."  
  
Wolfgang grinned at him. "Burning the candle at both ends, aren't we, Lucius? You weren't in bed until three a.m."  
  
"I was plotting," said Lucius, dabbing at his mouth with a serviette.  
  
"Lupin?"  
  
"Of course. I saw him after you left for bed. I went for a walk, and he was returning to his dorm with Black and Potter. I have seen him before, Wolf, but you were right; no one would remember him. He's completely unremarkable, except. . ."  
  
Wolf stuffed half a sausage into his mouth. "Yesh?"  
  
Lucius shook his head. "Nothing. Ketchup."  
  
Wolfgang slid the bottle across the table. "Except what?" he persisted.  
  
"I said nothing."  
  
"Like I said yesterday, you're a filthy liar." A sly grin crept over Wolfgang's face. "You like him, don't you? You saw him and you like him."  
  
"You don't know what you're talking about; the boy is plain. He's a werewolf, that's my only interest in this conquest."  
  
They both fell silent as other students began to fill the Great Hall. The Head Girl, who was also in Slytherin, took her seat next to Lucius. He paid her no attention. He had dated her for their entire sixth year, when she had still been interesting, and they had been elected head boy and girl shortly before he dumped her, a coincidence which she found as amusing as a porcupine-skin cushion placed tactfully in an inviting pile of very fluffy, comfortable-looking ones. However, she hadn't given up hope yet. She flipped her long dark hair and leaned close to him.  
  
"Good morning, Lucius," she purred.  
  
"Morning, Bellatrix," said Lucius, without looking up from his breakfast.  
  
"'Allo, Bella!" chimed in Wolfgang. Bellatrix Black peered down her nose at him with the same expression used by posh high-society ladies when encountering something nasty on the bottom of their shoe.  
  
"What are you?" she asked. "Lucius' new pet monkey?"  
  
"It's Wolfgang," said Lucius absently. He had produced a text book and was flipping through it in a bored sort of a way. "He's been my friend since the first year. And he's in all your classes. Remember?"  
  
"No." Bellatrix peered at Wolfgang again, then suddenly realised she'd wasted altogether too much time on him, time which could be spent pestering Lucius.  
  
"Are you –"she began.  
  
"No."  
  
"You don't know what I was going to say!"  
  
Lucius glanced up from his book. "Am I going to Hogsmeade? The answer is no."  
  
Bellatrix scowled. She took a few moments to help herself to some toast, then turned back again, but she was too late. Wolfgang was tugging frantically at Lucius' sleeve. He leaned down towards the little man, who whispered something into his ear. Lucius' thin, pale eyebrows went up. Then he straightened up, and turned his attention back to Bellatrix.  
  
"It appears I have changed my mind," he said. "My dear, may I escort you to Hogsmeade after lunch?"  
  
Bellatrix put on her most radiantly triumphant expression. She beamed at him, showing him all her shiny white teeth, and then demonstrated her new pout. Lucius peered expectantly at her.  
  
"No," she said.  
  
Lucius was stunned, but he recovered almost instantly. He wiped a non- existent crumb from the shoulder of his pristine robes. "No? Why ever not?"  
  
She gave him a genuinely sympathetic look which lasted for all of half a second, then rose to her feet. "I'm terribly sorry, Lucius," she said in a voice so loud that the entire Slytherin table and the Hufflepuffs next door would have no trouble hearing. "But I have a new boyfriend now. I know how much you'd love to take me to Hogsmeade, but I can't go with you. Goodbye." And she swept from the hall without a further word. Lucius stared after her, his eyebrows knitted in bewilderment; while beside him Wolfgang smacked his head on the table and stayed there.  
  
"That was different," said Lucius, and everyone stopped staring at him and went back to the more interesting task of eating breakfast.  
  
"Yes," said Wolf. "Of course, there's an interesting challenge in itself; win back Bellatrix Black."  
  
"That would be an interesting one, yes." Lucius didn't seem to be paying attention. He was trying to peer all the way down the hall to the Gryffindor table. "Maybe later."  
  
"Later? This is the girl you spent five years chasing!"  
  
"Yes, I know."  
  
Wolfgang looked a little worried. Lucius was oddly distracted, and he didn't like it at all. "Look," he muttered, "forget the boy. He was just a spur-of-the-moment idea. Wouldn't it be nice to see the look on Lestrange's face when you win back his girlfriend?"  
  
Lucius had the decency to look impressed. "Lestrange? Interesting. Is there anything you don't know about the student body, Wolf?"  
  
"If there is, it ain't worth knowing, Luci."  
  
"If you call me Luci again I shall have you tortured in a variety of interesting ways."  
  
"Sorry."  
  
They were walking back from potions later that day when Lucius stopped dead in the corridor. Wolfgang walked into his back, then fell over, got trampled on by a number of people, and finally clambered to his feet.  
  
"What was that for?" he demanded, poking Lucius viciously on the shoulder. "Someone could have got hurt!"  
  
"Didn't you?"  
  
"Not seriously, thanks."  
  
Lucius hesitated for a fraction of a second, then his hand shot out like a striking snake and he shoved Wolfgang into the teeming corridor ahead of them. The red-head sprawled in an interesting and impossible formation at someone's feet, tried to stagger up again, caught sight of whose feet he was lying at and changed his mind.  
  
"Ow," he said, raising a wrist pathetically to his forehead. "I am injured!" he added.  
  
Lucius pushed a couple of first years aside. "Move away, please!" he called, making his way through the throng of people, all of whom were glaring angrily at Wolfgang and trying to get around him. "Come on, nothing to see here, on to your lessons, NOT you sir – "His hand shot out again and grabbed a small, bony shoulder. "You're a witness."  
  
"But I didn't see –"the small boy began.  
  
"Shh, not here, wait until we get to the prefect's room, it's just along this. . .oh, you are a prefect. How odd. Also very careless of me, must stay in touch with the other houses' prefects, but never mind that. Come along now."  
  
Wolfgang watched Lucius lead Remus Lupin away, then grabbed hold of the nearest person and pulled himself up on their robes. Sirius Black gave him a horrified glare, swung his fist, and knocked the redhead out cold before stomping away down the corridor to join James outside the Charms classroom. 


	3. Lucius revamped

Notes: I have about another two chapters already written. One is the so- called "kink" scene, which has been spectacularly difficult to write, so you'll have to forgive me. After those chapters, I know how it ends but I'm making no promises of fast updates. I have exams looming, and it's probably time I found out what this "psychology" lark is all about.  
  
It was at least an hour later when Wolfgang awoke in a sticky, plasticy hospital bed. His eye hurt, but this wasn't an unusual situation for him. Taking punches for Lucius Malfoy was always preferable to taking punches from Lucius Malfoy or one of his thuggish cronies, and the hospital wing had become a familiar place over the years.  
  
"Ah," said the voice of Madame Pomfrey. The medical witch bustled into Wolfgang's line of sight. "You're awake finally. Drink this." A goblet of something thick and yellow was thrust in front of him. He sniffed.  
  
"What is this?"  
  
"Painkiller. Tsk. No wonder you lost your prefect badge, you haven't been a single month this year without a fight."  
  
"Yer," said Wolfgang, then downed the disgusting yellow goo in one mouthful.  
  
"Oh, and there's a visitor for you," added Madame Pomfrey. "It's Mr Malfoy."  
  
Wolfgang fluffed his own pillows and sat up in bed. Lucius appeared and settled down into the chair beside the bed.  
  
"Alright," said Wolfgang. "The money's in my bag down there."  
  
Lucius didn't move. "I ought to apologise," he said.  
  
"Don't be a twat; I knew all along you'd win. You'll have to get the money out yourself, I can't move, aargh, the pain. . ."  
  
The bigger boy cleared his throat. "I may be a liar, but essentially, when you get right down to it, as I'm sure you already know, I am not a dishonest man. And, well, as an honest man, I can't take that money. Not yet."  
  
Wolfgang stared. "You didn't do it?"  
  
"Not in so many words. But you interrupted me. I said I ought to apologise. For, er, pushing you in the corridor. Twice."  
  
"Eh?" said Wolfgang, and, "What?"  
  
"Remus said it was dreadfully rude of me."  
  
"What?"  
  
"He wasn't impressed. He said if I was any kind of man, I'd apologise. So that's what I'm doing."  
  
Wolfgang's jaw dropped. "What?"  
  
"Stop saying 'what'." Malfoy slumped back in the chair and examined the slim fingers of his right hand. "It was weird, Wolf," he said distantly.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"I'm not completely sure." Still staring into the middle distance, Lucius cracked his knuckles loudly. Wolfgang winced at this displacement activity.  
  
"Spit it out."  
  
There was a moment's silence as Lucius tried to organise things in his mind. Wolfgang soon got bored with this.  
  
"You took Lupin to the prefects' room?" he asked. Lucius looked at him, then nodded. "And then . . . You talked to him?"  
  
"Yes. I have no idea what about. This and that. It was weird – I tried everything."  
  
"You flirted?"  
  
"Of course. I tried everything."  
  
"And you propositioned him outright?"  
  
"Ev. Ery. Thing."  
  
Wolfgang chewed his lower lip. "And he said no?"  
  
Lucius shrugged. "He just talked around it. He was playing with me, I know it. Playing with ME! As if he'd planned this, as if he were trying to win some bet of his own to, I don't know, disgrace the Head Boy. The presumptuous little twat."  
  
Wolf grinned. "So. . .What're you saying? That I win?"  
  
"Certainly not! It's only Sunday, and you know the rules."  
  
"Yes, yes, you have until next Saturday. Good luck with seducing someone who finds you so entertaining."  
  
Lucius stomped from the hospital wing, fuming angrily. Twice in one day he had been made a fool of, but at least the whole school had not been watching his attempt to win Remus Lupin. If he hadn't known Bellatrix Black's family better, he would have sought instant revenge on her, but as it was he valued his own life and those of his immediate family too much to put at risk over a day or two of being sniggered at. However, he did have a use for her. He did not understand this Lupin boy, but there were those who did, and if Lucius was going to win this little game he was going to need that understanding more than anything. He knew a complex mind when he encountered one; in Lupin he had finally found a worthy opponent. Not someone who was intellectually his equal – Lupin may well have been, but that had not yet become apparent – but someone who's mind worked in a similar way to his own. Someone who not only thought about things, but thought about the way he thought; someone who could distance himself from reality and look at it from the outside. Yes, Lupin was special. And, of course, he was pretty too, thought Lucius with a smile. Yes, despite initial complications he was going to enjoy this immensely.  
  
It was Wednesday - and Wolfgang's hopes for a sudden and significant raise to his bank balance were increasing - before they saw anything of Remus Lupin again. Wolf helpfully pointed out that it was full moon on Monday, which Lucius considered highly unfair. Monday and Tuesday had effectively been removed from his Lupin-seducing time, but the rules were the rules and the bet would stand for the duration of one week, no more, no less. No end of grumbling would sway Wolfgang, who seemed to get more cheerful as the week wore on. However, the smile vanished from his face when Remus Lupin and his three friends walked across their path during Wednesday lunchtime. Lucius put a steadying hand on Wolfgang's chest and then stepped forward so the four boys couldn't fail to see him.  
  
James Potter started, and Sirius Black narrowed his eyes. Peter Pettigrew (Lucius had been assured that this was the fat boy's name) made a sort of high-pitched squeaking noise and hid behind them. Lupin merely raised a questioning eyebrow at them and folded his arms.  
  
"Can we help you?" asked Potter coldly. He had never had any kind of fondness for Lucius, and merely retained an air of uninterested politeness since his appointment as Head Boy. Everyone knew Potter and Black were the smartest wizards in their year, but Lucius saw them in a different light. Brainy they may have been, but also inelegantly arrogant and horribly smug. He didn't like people with too much confidence, and Black and Potter had received double helpings. Lupin, however, was silently wise. This, Lucius admired.  
  
"No you can't," said Lucius. "But Mr Black can."  
  
They all looked at Sirius; even Lupin looked faintly surprised. Lucius produced a folded piece of parchment from the pocket of his robes and handed it to Sirius.  
  
"Deliver this to your cousin."  
  
"Bellatrix?"  
  
"None other."  
  
Sirius glared at Lucius, and then tucked the parchment into his own pocket. Wolfgang glanced at Remus, whose eyes were fixed on Lucius. The head boy hadn't spared the young Gryffindor prefect as much as a glance. There were signs of confusion in Lupin's eyes, and the slight nervous movements of his hands. Lucius nodded at Sirius, then began to move off, with Wolfgang in tow.  
  
"Okay, explain," snapped the red-head.  
  
"Black will read the note and share it with his friends," said Lucius simply.  
  
"Yes? And what will he read, exactly?"  
  
"A proposition to Bellatrix, obviously. Lupin will think he's caused me to lose interest in him, feel jealous of Bellatrix, and do all the work for me."  
  
Wolfgang snorted. "Not bad, in theory, but you're making some major assumptions."  
  
"Educated assumptions, my dear fellow. And that's the important bit."  
  
"But they're still assumptions, Lucius. What if he just forgets about it and leaves it in his pocket for a week before putting it in the wash and melting it?"  
  
Their casual saunter took them towards the Great Lake, where a couple of Slytherin girls from the sixth year were dangling their feet in the water. They glanced over and giggled when they saw Lucius heading toward them. Without taking his eyes off the girls he muttered in Wolfgang's ear.  
  
"You underestimate me. This is not my only plan."  
  
"Oh good. And what when Bellatrix receives the letter? What will you tell her?"  
  
"I'm sure I'll think of something. Ah, ladies," he suddenly exclaimed loudly. "Nice to see you out in the sunshine; even a Slytherin should be concerned for her complexion. Can't spend our whole lives in a dungeon, can we?"  
  
The girls climbed to their feet, and Wolfgang suddenly found himself arm-in- arm with the freckled brunette, while the slim blonde wrapped herself around Lucius. They set off along the lakeside, Lucius smiling and chatting charmingly, and Wolfgang forced to trot to keep up. This was the other perk involved in being friends with the Head Boy, and one Wolfgang was always slightly uncertain about. None of the girls ever spoke to him again afterwards, which was often a good thing, but he hated the knowledge that without Lucius there wouldn't even be an afterwards, because there would have been no event to precede anything. But now wasn't the time to fret over reasons and morals, not least because the brunette had started stroking his ear. Lucius glanced at him, winked, and then led the blonde away from the lake and towards the school. Wolfgang, suddenly feeling very awkward, made his hasty excuses and fled to the library under the pretence of studying for his long-neglected NEWTs, and left the girl at the edge of the water, screaming futile curses after him. 


	4. More than a dare

Notes: Well isn't this flowing along nicely? I'd just like to take this moment to thank the reviewers of this story, because you all totally rock. I'm glad so many people like Wolfgang. I'm becoming rather fond of him myself. I wonder if J.K. Rowling would buy him from me . . .? I'd also like to add that the brief cameo in this chapter from our favourite Hogwarts professor is for Dace. Bwahaa.  
  
Thursday was upon them before Wolfgang saw Lucius again. The Head Boy eventually made an appearance in Potions, where he sauntered in fifteen minutes late, wearing yesterday's crumpled shirt and an unbearably arrogant grin. Wolfgang rolled his eyes and was forced to shrug as Lucius looked for his usual seat next to the red-head; Bellatrix was sitting on one side of him, and a pale, blonde girl was on the other, although she had her nose buried in a book and didn't notice Lucius glaring at her until he cleared his throat.  
  
"That's my seat, Miss," he snapped, realising that he'd never bothered to learn the girl's name. She glanced up from her book and stared at him.  
  
"Well I'm sitting here now. There's a seat over there."  
  
Lucius did not go red, but his nose and ears took on an unnatural shade of pink. The teacher looked like he was about to intervene, but he saw Lucius' expression and decided to go back to scribbling on the blackboard instead.  
  
"Leave Narcissa alone, you big prick," snapped Bellatrix.  
  
Lucius stared down at Bellatrix. He could see no sign that she had received the note yet from her cousin, but he couldn't be sure. "Oh, the intruder has a name," he muttered. "How nice."  
  
"Sod off." Bellatrix tried to dismiss him by turning her full attention to her work, but he was still glaring at Narcissa. She glanced at Bellatrix, who was apparently the only reason she hadn't fled as soon as Lucius spoke to her. Quickly, she shoved her belongings up one place, and sat in the spare seat next to her, leaving the place next to Wolfgang free. Lucius sat down, gave her a brief smile, and turned back to the other two.  
  
"We need words," said Bellatrix, without taking her eyes of the parchment in front of her. Ah, thought Lucius. Master Black would make an efficient post-owl operative.  
  
"Do we?" he asked aloud as he started to make notes from the blackboard.  
  
"Yes we do. For a start, why did you feel it was necessary to use my snotty little cousin as a go-between?"  
  
Lucius looked faintly puzzled. "Didn't know you had a cousin."  
  
"Yes you did! He gave me this!" She thrust the crumpled piece of parchment at him. He read it through, then chuckled.  
  
"Well I can see a sense of humour runs in your family," he said, grinning. "Although why it missed you out is anybody's guess."  
  
"I don't find it funny at all. Anyway, what are you talking about?"  
  
He gave her a fine display of his perfect white teeth. "My dear, I did not write this note as should be perfectly obvious to someone of your intellect. Even Wolfgang could tell this is not in my hand, and despite his apparent quick wit he is almost illiterate."  
  
Bellatrix's face went purple. "It's got your signature on!"  
  
"No. It has your cousin's poor imitation of my signature on. You should teach him how to forge handwriting properly, this is pitiful. And what's this . . . ?" Lucius pretended to squint at the parchment. "'Dear Bellatrix,'" he read, "'I am insanely in love with you. . .Blah blah blah. . . Meet me behind the Herbology huts on Thursday night. . .Blah blah blah. . .Wear your best knickers.' Well I'd say this was a Sirius Black speciality. You've been had, darling." He pushed the scrap across the table, and went back to work. Bellatrix gaped at him until she heard Wolfgang snigger beside her.  
  
"Oh shut up, you horrible little weasel!" she snarled, baring her teeth, then with an irritated growl went back to work.  
  
"Well," said Wolfgang once the lesson was over and he and Lucius were heading back to their dormitory. "That didn't go too badly. You embarrassed Bella and Lupin will have seen your note. Er, why did you write that about her knickers, by the way? Surely that wasn't necessary."  
  
"I didn't," laughed Lucius. "Sirius did. Mine was very eloquent. The brat changed every single word I wrote to something obscene. It was a good plan if he wanted to freak his cousin out and get me slapped, but no one would believe I wrote any of it. Oh, hang on. . ."  
  
Suddenly Lucius stopped and stepped back against the wall. The fifth years were in the middle of their examinations this week (the sixth years began theirs shortly after, and then the seventh years sat their NEWTs), and they had just escaped a Defence Against the Dark Arts exam. As they piled out of the Great hall on the opposite side of the entrance hall, Lucius had caught sight of James potter in the crowd. Sure enough, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin were there with him. They were laughing as they discussed the paper they had just sat. Lucius started forwards, attempting to catch up with them, but the crowd was too thick and he lost sight of them as they went outside.  
  
"Come on."  
  
Wolfgang found himself being forcibly dragged out of the door and into the sunshine. All around them, fifth years chattered about their most recent test, some confidently and some nervously.  
  
"Five signs of the werewolf. . ." said someone. "Erm. . .What did you get? I could only remember the tail."  
  
"Eyes, snout shape, paw size, pitch of howl," said an over-confidant girl.  
  
"Don't forget completely irresistible," murmured Lucius.  
  
"What?" snapped Wolfgang, whose wrist was still locked in his friend's vice- like grip. "I thought we were going to go and revise – "  
  
"I don't need to revise."  
  
"I do! Sorry. Ouch. Sorry. Lucius, stop pulling me!" Wolfgang was suddenly released. The people he had bumped into gave him strange looks as he apologised again, then scampered after Lucius. "Where are you going?" he demanded as he caught hold of Lucius' sleeve.  
  
"Just shush and follow me."  
  
They continued to push through the throng of people until they realised that the crowd had stopped moving. Some of it had dispersed and was slowly drifting away, but most of it had found something interesting to watch. Lucius was just the right height to see over the heads of almost everyone else, but Wolfgang had to stand on tip-toes and still couldn't tell what everyone was watching. He sighed, then sidled round to the edge of the crowd where he could see what was going on. He immediately wished that he hadn't; there was a young wizard hanging upside-down in the air, his face – and thus identity – obscured by his cloak hanging down over his face. But that wasn't what worried Wolfgang; this was normal compared to the look of fascination on the face of Lucius Malfoy as he watched not the arrogant young James Potter howling with laughter as he tried to remove the dangling wizard's pants, but the smaller figure seated under the nearby tree, apparently engrossed in a textbook. It was at this moment, when the head boy should have been intervening but was instead completely engrossed in the attractive face of a younger prefect, that Wolfgang realised what a big mistake this challenge had been. It wasn't really a game any more – Bellatrix Black, now, she was a game; Remus Lupin had become an obsession.  
  
Suddenly Lucius was breaking from the crowd and striding across the field. "Let that boy go!" he bellowed. "James Potter! How you ever became a prefect I will never know! Release him or I'll hex your sorry arse into next week!"  
  
The boy suddenly dropped to the ground as Potter spun to face the furious Lucius. He actually looked terrified, which was a new expression for James Potter. Sirius Black had managed to disappear, but a quick glance around and Wolfgang discovered him kicking the boy's dropped bag at him, and then making a vague effort to help him to his feet. Remus Lupin had leaped to his own feet, and hurried over to Potter and Lucius.  
  
"It was my fault, Malfoy," the smaller boy declared.  
  
"Shove off, Moony, I don't need you to save the day," snapped Potter.  
  
"I should have stopped them," insisted Lupin. Wolfgang watched him with an open mouth. Was this boy for real?  
  
"Maybe you should have." An odd expression crossed Lucius' face. He was a whole head and shoulders taller than Lupin, but the fifth year prefect managed to look every bit as big as the head Boy as he stood face to unflinching face with him. James took a step to the side, distancing but not completely removing himself from the conversation.  
  
"It won't happen again, I promise," said Lupin sincerely. "Or at least. . .I won't approve of it if it does." There was a twinkle in the corner of his eye as he spoke. He must have been expecting Lucius to smirk, but the bigger boy hadn't heard the words; he had merely seen the lips move and forgotten the existence of everything else. Lupin's brow creased in concern, and the movement seemed to bring Lucius back to the real world.  
  
"Er," he said. "Yes. Good. You make sure of that. However, some sort of disciplinary action would probably be appropriate. . ."  
  
Very subtle, thought Wolfgang, rolling his eyes. Lucius seemed to think the same thing at the same time and cleared his throat suddenly. "Potter! You've lost your prefect privileges for a week. Black, you too. Oh, you're not a prefect. Well in that case, detention or something. Ah, professor. . ." Professor Schmidt had arrived on the scene. Everyone involved suddenly appeared to be very ashamed of themselves, even the small greasy-looking figure who had been submitted to the torture. Wolfgang chose this moment to carefully remove himself from the scene.  
  
And then it was Friday.  
  
"Given up yet?" asked Wolf, as Lucius emerged from the bathroom.  
  
The blond adjusted the towel round his waist. "Given what up?" he demanded.  
  
"Lupin. The challenge. You remember."  
  
"Oh." He shook his head vigorously, showering everything in water. "Saturday evening we set the challenge. There is no giving up. Although you'd better get up, or we'll be late."  
  
"Mm," said Wolfgang. "Look, don't you think this one's lost its interest a little? Is it not a bit boring? We could always do something more interesting if you –"  
  
"I want Lupin."  
  
"Right. You want Lupin. Er."  
  
Lucius began throwing clothes out of his trunk, but he paused to raise an eyebrow at his friend. "Er? What is 'er'?"  
  
"Well."  
  
"Well?"  
  
Wolfgang shifted uncomfortably. There was something unnerving about lying in bed and having that look directed at you by a scantily-clad Lucius Malfoy. However, he'd started digging so it was carry on through to the other side or wither up and die in there.  
  
"I think this has gone beyond a challenge. Hasn't it?" he muttered weakly.  
  
"I have no idea what you are talking about. Have you seen any of my shirts? I can never find a shirt when I want one, it's quite obscene." Lucius' head vanished once more into the depths of the trunk. Wolfgang pulled his dressing gown around himself and padded across the room. The dormitory had been deserted by their four room-mates long before, and Lucius was right; they were almost certainly going to be very late.  
  
"I've been watching Bellatrix," he ventured. Lucius didn't react. "She still likes you. Um. Underneath her hostile exterior, I believe she can be quite caring. Can't she?"  
  
"No. besides, I'm not interested in her, Wolf. I'm interested in – "  
  
"Lupin. Yes. I was afraid of that."  
  
Lucius suddenly straightened up. His wet hair clung to his neck and he was clutching a towel around himself, but he still looked very imposing. "What do you mean?" he said coldly, every syllable slotting into place like a chunk of stone.  
  
"Haha," said Wolfgang, "it's a funny thing."  
  
"Is it?"  
  
"Um. Well. No." He stared at his feet. They were no help. "Look, I'm just getting a bit worried about you. You've never got this obsessed with a challenge victim before. Contestant. Whatever."  
  
Lucius' expression softened, but Wolfgang knew that this was because, not only is it almost impossible to take someone seriously when they are wearing nothing except for a towel but it is also very difficult to take oneself seriously when one is in this position.  
  
"I am not obsessed," said Lucius. "I merely happen to have taken a liking to Mr Remus Lupin."  
  
"You don't like anyone, Lucius. And you hardly know the boy."  
  
"I like you well enough, and I don't dislike Bella or Rodolphus or any of that crowd. Now just leave the subject alone, will you?"  
  
They went down for breakfast to find that in actual fact they were several minutes late for potions. Wolfgang didn't care. He was merely very grateful indeed that Lucius hadn't lost his temper. Unpleasant things happened when Lucius lost his temper.  
  
The day passed slowly. At break time, Wolfgang had to stand around while Lucius watched Remus Lupin take Potter's broomstick round and round between the trees, chased by Sirius Black and a Bludger. At lunch time, Wolfgang just got bored and went away when they happened across Lupin and his friends practicing transfiguration in an abandoned classroom. An odd look entered Lucius' eyes whenever he saw the young Gryffindor, and it wasn't his usual predatory stare. It was one of fascination and adoration, and it scared Wolfgang witless.  
  
"Your name means 'Path of the Wolf'," said Lucius matter-of-factly in Divination that afternoon. "Did you know that?"  
  
"Yes. Why?"  
  
"No reason. It's an old werewolf name. I found it in a book."  
  
Wolfgang's eyes widened. "You've been reading up on werewolves?"  
  
"Of course. Apparently they can't resist chocolate."  
  
". . .Which would go some way towards explaining why you now smell of the stuff," sighed Wolfgang, who had been wondering about that all day. 


	5. The seduction of whom?

Notes: This is it. Anyone who isn't comfortable with things getting steamy had better turn away now. Yes, now. Go on. Don't think I can't see you there, peering out from behind the sofa. Get away from mummy and daddy's pc and go to bed. . . Are they gone? Good. Onwards.  
  
Finally it was Friday evening. Only one more day and Wolfgang would be able to claim his victory. He took this knowledge to dinner with him, and would have gloated about it to Lucius, had he shown up.  
  
"Where the hell's he gone?" Wolf demanded, taking his seat at the Slytherin table.  
  
Bellatrix gave him a look. "Oh, you mean you two aren't literally joined at the hip after all?"  
  
"I don't go in for that stuff."  
  
She ignored this. "I don't know where he is. Jacob, where's Lucius?"  
  
Another Slytherin boy with jet black hair and several piercings glanced the length of the table and shrugged. "He was in Arithmancy. Then he buggered off somewhere I guess."  
  
"Bloody typical," muttered Wolfgang. Almost without thinking he looked down to the Gryffindor table, where there was an empty chair between Black and Potter.  
  
"Was there something you wanted to talk about?" asked Lucius briskly, trying not to let his voice go up an octave.  
  
"There may have been." Lupin stared at a portrait behind Lucius' head. "But I've forgotten it."  
  
"Oh. How careless."  
  
They were in the prefects' common room, which was empty at this time of day. No one wanted to spend the summer indoors anyway, and Lucius was pretty sure no one was going to walk in. Lupin had approached him in the corridor and asked him if he could spare a few moments. Lucius, of course, could. So he had led the way, and now here they were. If he was perfectly honest, Lucius would have admitted that he was feeling incredibly awkward. The tables had been turned, and it was Lupin regarding him with a cool, calculating stare while he shifted nervously and wondered if he was going to get out of this alive.  
  
Lupin strolled past Lucius until he was looking closely at the picture on the wall. He didn't take his eyes off the still life. "I've been watching you watching me, Malfoy."  
  
"Oh," said Lucius, noncommittally.  
  
"I wondered why you were doing it, but then I decided." He seemed to notice something beneath the picture which Lucius couldn't see. His nose almost touched the canvas as he peered critically at it.  
  
"Decided what?"  
  
"Oh." Lupin waved a vague hand as he spun away from the picture. "That I didn't care either way. You can tell me if you like, but I'm not interested."  
  
"I'd rather not. But. Well, since Sunday a number of things have been made apparent to me which previously I had never noticed."  
  
Lupin allowed himself a small smile. "Oh yes?"  
  
"You're worth more than the low-lives you hang around with, for a start."  
  
Lupin's face went wooden. "You can't say that. James, Peter and Sirius are everything to me. They give me confidence to be myself, taught me not to hide from society. If it wasn't for them, I certainly wouldn't have the guts to stand here and do this."  
  
"Do what. . ." began Lucius, but the words died on his lips as Lupin took the step between them which turned a polite distance into intimacy. The werewolf's slender hands touched his chest and he felt his breath dry up in his throat. Lupin leaned up, almost standing on tip-toes, his hands sliding under Lucius' hair and around his neck. "You can't do tha–"Lucius began to protest, but warm, chafed lips were suddenly pressed against his own and he realised that, yes, Lupin could do that and there wasn't a power in the world which would stop him.  
  
The first thing which became obvious was that Lupin did not know how to kiss someone. Lucius got the impression that maybe he had tried it once or twice before but it hadn't been much to remember, and now that he wanted to enjoy himself he couldn't remember how it was done. His lips were red and the skin was dry until someone's tongue sorted this out. Kissing those parched lips should not have been a pleasant experience, but the roughness of the skin was strangely exciting. He found himself thinking briefly of Bellatrix, who put hours of effort each morning into making sure her lips were smooth, soft and well-nourished, but could never have made him shiver all over like one clumsy kiss from Remus did.  
  
The second thing which became apparent was that despite Lupin's complete lack of experience it was the Gryffindor who was going to be controlling things. This, Lucius could not tolerate, and he decided that if this was going to be made clear - and it was - then now was the time to do it.  
  
"No, no," he murmured, gently pushing Remus off him. "You can't do that. You don't know how. And besides, I'm meant to be the seductress. Seducer. Whatever. No!" he insisted, as Remus moved in again and ran his tongue tantalisingly over Lucius' lower lip. "I thought you'd be shy, but no, you have to go and surprise me again. Let me do it my way or sod off. I won't be made a fool of again over you." He was surprised at his own sharp tone, but he hadn't realised how annoyed he had been at Lupin for making the first moves. This was his challenge, and it wasn't fair if Lupin ruined his entire week's work by being as compliant as a giggling sixth year after a few too many butter beers.  
  
Remus shrugged. "Have it your way if you must," he said. "I suppose."  
  
"I will," snapped Lucius. It was even more unfair that Lupin's entire attitude only served to excite him more. Well he wasn't going to get away with causing this fluttering sensation in his stomach, or the jelly-like quality of his knees right now. Disciplinary action was required, he thought with a smirk.  
  
"What's funny?" asked Remus.  
  
"Nothing." Lucius cupped his hand round the werewolf's cheek, running his thumb over the smooth skin. "I just got a bit of a premonition. I saw the look on your face twenty minutes from now." He leaned in for a few brief kisses before he heard footsteps outside. He froze and took a step back, but the footsteps went straight past the room. Nonetheless he took Remus by the hand (and for years after he couldn't figure out why he had done that) and dragged him into the prefects' private bathroom, locking the door securely behind them.  
  
Remus glanced quickly round the bathroom. It was very large and contained an enormous swimming-pool-like bath, as well as dozens of fluffy towels, a set of showers, and a lavatory block. But Lucius was already advancing on him, and his attention switched back to the blond.  
  
"I've changed my mind," said Lupin. "I do want to know why you've been watching me all week."  
  
Lucius chuckled. "Because I wanted to do this to you, of course." His hand stroked Remus' thigh right up to his hip. The werewolf shivered with delight.  
  
"So why me?" Remus asked as Lucius stooped to kiss the delicate skin by his ear. "There must be some reason."  
  
"Probably," murmured Lucius, "but I don't remember now." The breath against Remus' neck made him shiver. Lucius moved to kiss his lips, and only now did Remus realise it wasn't just Lucius' breath which was uncomfortably cool.  
  
"You're so cold," Remus murmured.  
  
"I know. Won't be for long."  
  
Deftly, Lucius removed the young prefect's shirt in one fluid movement. His eyes widened in horrified surprise; Remus' chest was riddled with white scars of varying length and age. One deep, vivid purple scar ran from his shoulder to his hip. Lucius was no expert, but he knew an animal claw-mark when he saw one.  
  
"Jesus Christ," he murmured.  
  
Impulsively Remus tried to cover his chest and stomach with his arms, but Lucius grabbed both of his wrists and forced them back to his sides. Remus raised his chin defiantly, and Lucius found himself in awe of the pride shining in the werewolf's eyes.  
  
"What did this?" Lucius asked, pretending he didn't have a clue.  
  
"I did. I. . .lose my temper sometimes."  
  
Lucius ran his fingers along the length of the deep purple scar. "Does it hurt?"  
  
"Not any more."  
  
The end of the scar ran below Remus' belt. Gently, far more conscientiously than ever before, Lucius removed the belt and the werewolf's trousers. He finished tracing the line of the scar, which required him to slide his fingertips under the elastic of Remus' pants. His other hand slid round Remus' waist, pulling him close. He kissed the younger man with a strange passion that he'd never felt before, not even after years of chasing then finally wining Bellatrix Black. Remus tasted wonderful; a cocktail of chocolate, coffee, and something else, something musky and almost feral. Lucius didn't wonder what it was, and he didn't care about the scars. He ran his hands over the pale skin, and suddenly discovered a semi-fresh wound on Remus' shoulder blade. The werewolf flinched with the pain, and dug his nails into Lucius' back. The blond purred with delight, and pushed Remus backwards. They sunk down into the pile of soft white towels in the corner, but as they moved to get comfortable Remus managed to push Lucius onto his back, then straddled him, sitting on his stomach.  
  
"I told you already –"Lucius began, trying to push himself up on his elbows, but Remus put a firm hand on his chest.  
  
"I'd still quite like to know why you picked me," said Remus in the tones of a high-flying businessman encountering an old school bully twenty years later in a bar.  
  
Lucius let him drop back onto the towels. "No one's ever asked me that before. They don't even think to wonder until afterwards."  
  
"Oh." Remus absent-mindedly undid the first button of Lucius' shirt with his right hand, while his left hung idly by his side, the fingers lightly stroking the exposed skin of Lucius' side. "So. Are you going to tell me why?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Oh, well." Remus began to stand up, but Lucius' hand shot out and grabbed him. Remus gave him a satisfied grin. "Tell me why. I'd hate to have to walk out on you of all people."  
  
Lucius glared, but there was no use to it. Remus was completely irresistible when he gave him that matter-of-fact look. The fact that he had shifted his weight so that he was now balancing on Lucius' hips had, of course, nothing to do with it.  
  
"It was a bet," croaked Lucius. His eyes widened at the hoarseness of his own voice. He cleared his throat. "A bet, okay? To see if I could seduce you. Happy now?"  
  
In fact, Remus looked delighted. He leaned down to Kiss Lucius lightly on the lips, but the Slytherin wasn't having any coyness. His fingers entwined themselves in Remus' hair and he pulled him down into a deep, passionate kiss. Remus' hand slid between them, undoing the rest of Lucius' shirt buttons, then without realising he dug his nails into the blond's chest. Lucius tried not to gasp; it would be undignified. This boy didn't know what he was doing, yet the interesting bulge developing in Lucius' trousers suggested that Remus didn't need to know what he was doing. Lucius made another desperate attempt to rectify the situation; he put an arm firmly round Remus back and rolled him over, pinning him to the towel-covered floor. Remus grinned up at him, then attempted the reverse the manoeuvre.  
  
"Persistent, aren't you?" growled Lucius. He grabbed Remus' arms roughly and pinned them down, satisfied when he finally saw a glimmer of fear in Remus' eyes. The young werewolf was obviously worried what he had got himself in for. "I'm not going to hurt you," he added after a moment's thought, "but you've got to behave yourself. Got it?" Remus nodded, the panic fading slightly. Lucius kissed him again, but softly. A new sensation had taken over him, and he recognised it as guilt. Of course he had intended to frighten Remus, but now he had, he regretted it. There was something vulnerable about the werewolf, beneath that cool, composed exterior, and Lucius knew it was not his place to take advantage of that.  
  
Remus stretched out a lazy hand and tugged at the ribbon binding Lucius' hair, as the Slytherin continued to place hesitant, gentle kisses across his face. A shower of white-gold hair rained down around them, and Remus worked his fingers into it. Greedily, he sought out Lucius' lips with his own, and at the same time he wove the black ribbon around the fingers of his right hand.  
  
"I'm keeping this," he murmured.  
  
"You do that."  
  
Remus' grin caused Lucius to completely forget that niggling guilt in his mind, and he turned ravenous once more. The remains of their clothing were flung aside, some of it landing, rather unfortunately, in the bath. Remus found this hysterically funny and even Lucius had to grin before moving in to finally claim his prize. He ran his tongue all the way down Lupin's stomach, occasionally nipping hungrily at the skin. There was something about those scars which thrilled him, and also something about the very fact that the boy was a werewolf. As a rule Lucius didn't approve of half- breeds, but delicious, naked, beautiful ones were a clear-cut exception. He could definitely forgive Remus for turning into a wolf every full moon if it was the reason why he let out those delightful little yips and yelps as Lucius explored him thoroughly. And he was almost entirely sure the lycanthropy was the biggest turn-on for him; not the fine structure of Remus' body, not his warm yet questioning gaze, not the soft blond-brown hair which curled down to his shoulders. However, within moments he had completely forgotten what was so desirable about a werewolf, and could only focus on what was desirable about Remus J. Lupin.  
  
The werewolf was almost totally compliant, only trying once more to take control. Lucius was still having none of it. This was his challenge, and it would be his victory. He could not let Lupin think he had won some kind of game; besides, the game had ended long ago. He was not playing now. This was not fun, it was something essential to him, like air or water. He had to have Lupin, and that was the be all and end all. He never stopped to think what would happen once he'd had the boy. Would these bizarre compulsions go away? Would he stop thinking about Lupin first thing in the morning and last thing at night? Would he be able to simply move on to the next person, utterly unmoved by Lupin or the conquest? None of these questions so much as entered his mind until the werewolf's strained cries faded, and Lupin lay still under him, panting and exhausted, the black ribbon still twisted round his fingers and trailing across his chest. Lucius rested his head on Lupin, brushing the ribbon out of his way. He could feel the quick heart-beat in that thin, scar-raked chest, and it made him lustful again, but Lupin looked exhausted. It was, after all, not even a week since full moon.  
  
"Wow," said Lupin eventually. Lucius raised his head and glared at him.  
  
"Is that it? Wow?"  
  
"I don't say wow that often."  
  
"Oh goodie." Lucius slumped back against the towels, but he gazed back up at Remus. The boy swept his hair out of his face and tied it back with Lucius' ribbon. Something occurred to the Slytherin.  
  
"Remus?"  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
Lucius propped himself up on his elbow. "What's the J stand for?"  
  
Remus grinned. "Just fabulous."  
  
"It doesn't."  
  
"No. It's John."  
  
"How very unimaginative of a couple who managed to come up with the name Remus," Lucius drawled. Remus shrugged. He reached out and stroked his fingers along the curve of Lucius' jaw.  
  
"Thank you," he said finally.  
  
"For what?"  
  
"Not freaking out. The scars, I mean."  
  
Something else completely new and as yet unidentified took over Lucius' conscious mind. "They're beautiful, like the rest of you," he murmured, and instantly wondered why. Remus was giving him an odd look; he sat bolt upright and cast around for his trousers and underwear, pulling it on swiftly.  
  
"What're you doing?" Suddenly Remus was a sixteen year old boy again, and he was confused. He gazed at Lucius, a faint line forming on his brow.  
  
"Going. I'm sorry. I have to be somewhere, completely forgot."  
  
Remus watched from the now rather scattered heap of towels as Lucius fished his shirt out of the bath. He wrung out most of the water, and then pulled the sodden garment on. He didn't bother to do up the buttons.  
  
"Don't go."  
  
Lucius glanced over his shoulder at his latest victim. In body and mind Remus was now very much a man, but emotionally he was immature. Another pang of guilt swept over Lucius, the second today and in his life. It would also be his last.  
  
"Maybe I'll see you later," he semi-promised, turning on his heel. Remus could do nothing as he watched the bathroom door close behind him. 


	6. New Depths

Notes: Last chapter, folks. Thanks again to all who've read this. To those who have been reading in secret, do us all a favour and humour the Review Whore. Yes, I mean me. Flame if you like, but please, do it eloquently.  
  
Wolfgang was half-asleep when the door of the dormitory slammed open and then shut again, waking him up. None of the other Slytherin boys had been disturbed, which was lucky because it was Lucius who skulked into the room, glaring straight at Wolfgang.  
  
"It's your fault," he snapped.  
  
Wolfgang blinked away the sleep. "What?" he demanded, moving aside as Lucius sat down on the edge of his bed. "Christ," he yelped, "you're soaking wet! Sod off, will you!"  
  
Lucius didn't move, and continued to drip water all over Wolfgang's bed. "Lupin. Challenge. Me wet. All your fault," he mumbled.  
  
Wolfgang sat up. "So you did it?" he asked, suddenly interested.  
  
"Hmm? Did what?"  
  
"Did Lupin, obviously. Are you okay? You seem very. . .Well, odd."  
  
"Oh, Lupin. Yes. At dinner. Well obviously not at dinner, we were . . . somewhere else."  
  
"Bloody hell. Where have you been since then?"  
  
Lucius shrugged. "I don't know. Walking."  
  
Wolfgang scowled. There was something seriously wrong with his friend, and for now the soaking wet bed sheets could be ignored.  
  
"Are you okay?" Wolf repeated. Lucius shook his head vigorously, and all of a sudden something of his old self came back to him.  
  
"Of course I'm okay, why shouldn't I be? I got him, and now I am going to bed."  
  
"You'll be wanting your money then?" With a sigh, Wolfgang threw his money pouch at Lucius, who caught it and held it out.  
  
"Er. You know the other day when we spoke about me being an honest man?" Wolfgang nodded. "Well I still can't take this." Lucius threw the pouch back, then peeled off his drenched shirt before collapsing into bed. But even in his sleep he was not safe. Lupin was there in his dreams, never speaking to him, never close enough to touch, but always there somewhere in the background, maybe watching Black and Potter pulling pranks, maybe sitting at the back of a class, maybe amongst a crowd watching Quidditch. And when Lucius woke up, he still wasn't free because Lupin caught his eye at breakfast, and Black tried to trip him over in the corridor after lunch, and Potter made a joke about him at the prefects' meeting when he thought the Head Boy wasn't listening. There was nothing he could do to escape Lupin or his friends – even in the Slytherin common room he could still hear those frantic little yelps of pleasure whenever he closed his eyes for so much as a second. . .  
  
"Mr Malfoy!" A shrill voice cut through his daydreams as he made his way back from the library on Saturday evening. "Will you look where you are going?"  
  
Lucius glanced up at Professor McGonagall. The transfiguration teacher was glaring at him, and he remembered something about standing on her foot.  
  
"Sorry Professor," he muttered, before hurrying on.  
  
It was no use. He would have to see Lupin again, as soon as possible. This was insane; he wasn't supposed to be feeling like this! This fuzzy sensation in his head wasn't right, it was what he was supposed to cause in other people. He knew deep down that he had not seduced anybody that week: Remus Lupin had seduced him. It was Lupin who should have won the hundred and fifty galleons, and even that was a modest prize for the feat he had achieved. Of course, this was not – the word refused to even enter his mind unless he forced it – love. Lucius Malfoy could not fall in love because Lucius Malfoy would never let that happen. But it was lust mixed with adoration, which can be more or less the same thing.  
  
He sulked his way through Saturday night, and moped his way through Sunday morning. Wolfgang was a bag of nerves by the time Sunday lunch was over, and he was trying his best to avoid Lucius. Lucius, on the other hand, was well aware that Wolfgang was the only person he could really talk to. Slytherins could never be trusted, but Wolfgang was strange as a rule and although Lucius did not completely trust him, he did have faith in his judgement. As Wolfgang shoved aside his pudding dish and went to make a dash back to the common room, Lucius' hand shot out and grabbed him by the robes, pulling him back down on the bench beside him.  
  
"I need to talk to you," Lucius hissed. "Come on." He dragged Wolfgang out of the great hall, the smaller boy scurrying frantically to avoid falling flat on his face.  
  
"What's the matter with you?" Wolfgang snapped as soon as they were alone.  
  
Lucius stopped and leaned against the wall. Wolfgang had never seen him so flustered – or, for that matter, flustered at all. Lucius glanced around then made a hopeless sound in his throat. "I've really done it now, Wolf," he groaned.  
  
Wolfgang gave him a knowing yet desperate look. "You've sunken to fresh, as yet unexplored levels of depravity, haven't you? Exploring whole new depths of inhumanity, never before encountered by decent, self-respecting Slytherin students."  
  
Lucius nodded miserably. Wolfgang looked almost disgusted.  
  
"You've fallen in love with him . . . Haven't you?HavenHH"  
  
Wolfgang peered at his wretched friend, then suddenly became sympathetic, although he wasn't sure how to deal with this new emotion. He patted Lucius weakly on the shoulder. "There," he said. "There," he added as an after- thought.  
  
"I don't want to feel like this!" wailed Lucius. "It's pathetic!" Something appeared to occur to him, and he suddenly grabbed Wolfgang by the collar. "Don't you dare mention this to anyone, do you hear?" he snarled.  
  
"Goeswithoutsaying!" squeaked Wolfgang. Lucius narrowed his eyes at him, then let him go. The Head Boy ran a flustered hand through his hair, which hadn't been tied back since Friday's encounter with Remus.  
  
"I don't know what to do, Wolf." He glanced up at the ceiling, which offered him no reassurance. Wolfgang hovered uselessly. "I can't have him, I know that. It'd be stupid. Besides, he's a half-breed and a half-blood; in anyone else, those are repulsive qualities. But Remus is different – don't ask me why. You don't know him."  
  
"Neither do you."  
  
"A minor issue."  
  
Wolfgang nodded. "True. But nonetheless, this is serious. And I'm afraid that for the first time ever, I don't have a plan which I cooked up some time when I was bored. I never could have imagined this set of circumstances, so you're entirely on your own, even – and especially – if you want a shoulder to cry on. I'd like to reiterate my earlier sentiments: I don't go in for that stuff."  
  
Lucius wiped frantically at his dry but red eyes, as if daring them to try and cry on him. "I'm fine," he said eventually. "I don't actually need you, you know."  
  
"Of course," said Wolfgang, understanding the situation perfectly. He paused briefly, gazing over Lucius' shoulder. "Look," he whispered.  
  
Lucius glanced behind him in time to see Remus disappearing through a nearby door. When he turned back, Wolfgang had made himself scarce. Lucius swallowed his pride, and headed towards the door.  
  
It was a transfiguration classroom, used by professor McGonagall occasionally. Lucius was familiar with it; it would be the perfect place to confront Remus. He paused briefly outside, then stuck his head around the door.  
  
Later, he played the scene through his mind, over and over again, and each time he was glad he had not just strode into the room unannounced. Rather he had watched undetected from the doorway as Remus stepped towards a waiting Sirius Black, looped his arms round his neck, and placed a hesitant kiss on the taller boy's lips. Black responded instantly, wrapping his arms around Remus and pulling him in closer for a passionate kiss. His hands found a familiar black ribbon in Remus' hair and tugged it out, winding his fingers into the curly brown locks as Remus' fingers stroked Sirius' thigh right up to his hip. . .  
  
Lucius stepped quickly out of the room and collected himself in the corridor outside. That was it then; Lupin had been nothing more than a few moments' pleasure and a week's worth of obsession. His heart was set on another, and it was high time Lucius forgot about him too. Easier said than done, he knew that, but to coin another cliché, you can't win them all. He finally caught his breath, pulled a spare ribbon from his pocket, straightened his hair, and strode out into the entrance hall. However his mind was not focused on where he was going, because he instantly collided with someone trying to go the same way as him only faster. A small blonde girl cried out as her bag was knocked to the floor and all her school books spilled out. Lucius may have been cunning, calculating and ultimately cruel, but he was also a gentleman, and as a gentleman he automatically steadied the girl by her elbow and began gathering up her books. She watched him with a nervous smile, and he glanced up at her from his crouched position. A moment's thought, and her name came to him.  
  
"So sorry, Narcissa. I wasn't looking where I was going." He straightened up and slung her bag over his own shoulder. "Let me carry this."  
  
They set off along the corridor, Lucius doing his best to be charming, and all the nervousness leaving Narcissa's smile. As they left the school and emerged into the warm summer light, she slipped her arm through his, and he escorted her down towards the shimmering banks of the Great Lake.  
  
The End 


End file.
